


You're not okay

by AllumetteRouge (RedRaidingHood)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, I'm just making sure, M/M, mention of animal cruelty, mention of the death of an animal, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRaidingHood/pseuds/AllumetteRouge
Summary: No matter how often Tim repeated "I'm okay" he most certainly was not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeneratorCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat/gifts).



> This was a prompt by the lovely [Cat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat) <3  
> Hope you like it!

Jason hated the wound. He hated everything that hurt Tim, which did not exclude himself on occasion, but he hated this wound in particular. Wiping the antiseptic over it, he worked quickly to cover it up and be done, each movement echoing strangely in their bathroom.

“Yeesh, Jay, will you watch that,” Tim hissed, his amusement hardly covered by the pain he must be in. Jason ducked his head, an apology already on his lips. “I told you, I’m okay.”

“You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

The muscles under Jason’s hand moved, Tim’s fingers tangling with his on his chest where Jason was wrapping up the wound Tim had gotten tonight. The knife had glanced off his collar bone, not enough force to break it, just cut and bruise the skin, but it was close. Too close.

There was no question Tim had been reckless tonight. Usually, he was a good fighter - better than Jason at least. There had to be a reason Tim was feeling like throwing himself into a fight like this and knowing him, it was not just for fun. Tim didn’t make it a habit beating up criminals for fun. Sparring, sure. Fighting strange orc-hybrids online, definitely. But not like this. Not head-first into actual danger without reason. So there was one. A reason, that it.

“Jason, stop thinking, I’m fine.”

“You’d tell me if I had done something wrong, right?” Letting go of Tim’s hand, he started to clean up. He moved automatically, his mind everywhere but on the task. Maybe it was bothering Tim that they hadn’t told anyone about their relationship yet. For him, it was no big deal, but Tim could be peculiar about stuff like that.

“What makes you even think there’s something wrong?” Tim sounded exasperated. He stood, walking the few feet over to the sink and Jason couldn’t help but watch. Tim’s whole posture was wrong. He shouldn’t walk like that. Shouldn’t walk like he had to push his shoulders up just so no one would see the giant weight on them.

Grunting, Jason stood from his crouch, following his boyfriend to stand right behind him. Like this, he could see over Tim’s head, could see Tim’s face in the mirror. Usually, his eyes were intense, alive and just… there. Right in the moment. Jason had no words for what it really was, but he loved it. Loved how a dull color like Tim’s would look so amazing just because of the fire behind it. A fire that had vanished tonight.

Jason put his arms around Tim, pulling him close to kiss the crown of his head. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Tim snorted. “You have no idea what you’re apologizing for.”

Jason let him move, but he followed his every step. He was worried and he didn’t like not knowing what had hurt Tim. If it wasn’t the wound, if it wasn’t something physical…

With careful motions, Tim pulled his pants down, undressing but not caring for pajamas - not that Jason minded. Although, seeing the bandage on Tim’s collarbone had his heart beating harshly against his ribs. He had wanted to hit the man who did this ever since he’d seen Tim down on the street, brawling like he couldn’t care less. Something was so damn wrong with him. Something had hurt him and it wasn’t the blade that had cut his skin.

Swallowing the acid in his throat, Jason sat on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. He took a breath, smelling the warmth and familiarity of the room. Their room. The one they shared for months now.

Tim trusted him, Jason knew that, but it still hurt watching him pretend. Because the issue wasn’t trust rather than Tim not thinking it was worth talking about. That _he_ wasn’t worth talking about.

“Just tell me,” Jason said, staring at the shirt in his hands.

Tim sat in the middle of the bed, curling his legs under him and shaking his head. “I told you like a thousand times already: It’s just a scratch, Jay. I’m okay.”

Maybe it was his touch, the warm hand on Jason’s shoulder that made him snap. Maybe it was the pain he felt when his heart seemed to clench with every beat. Or maybe it was the anger he felt at whoever taught Tim to prioritize everyone’s feelings above his own.

“Stop telling me you’re okay. I know you’re not.”

Silence rang between them only for a moment, but in this moment, Jason felt like he’d turned to stone. He couldn’t bear to turn and face Tim. Something was wrong and Tim didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to help - it was selfish of Jason to demand the truth when his boyfriend was so obviously trying hard to pretend.

“They killed my dog.” Tim’s voice was tiny, breaking the silence and inciting Jason to look at him.

“You don’t have a dog.”

The reply came out as a sob, and Jason’s chest hurt. Tim sat there on their bed, his eyes cast down between his legs where his hands had found each other. “They killed my dog,” he repeated stubbornly.

Jason shifted on the bed, sliding closer to Tim and putting a hand on his knee. He leaned forward to see Tim’s eyes tightly closed. “They killed your dog?”

With a nod, the dam broke and fat tears rolled down Tim’s cheeks. “At the Fifth and Main, around four. She’d be there and walk with me every time. She liked bouncy balls and yo-yos, and sometimes she brought me potatoes when I was feeling down. Don’t ask me where she got them from, I have no idea.”

“Ah, shit.” Jason rubbed slow circles on his knee. Tim was a mess, but not for the reason he had thought.

“One time, she even found me an old Game Boy.” Tim laughed, wiping his nose with his arm.

“Shit,” Jason repeated. It was so very much like Tim to befriend random animals during patrol.

“She didn’t deserve it.”

“No, she didn’t,” he agreed, opening his arms for Tim who took the invitation. Pulling his boyfriend against his chest, Jason could feel the tears against his neck. Tim was a mess, ugly sobbing because of some dog who had been killed on the street. Some dog who had accompanied the lonely little boy each morning.

Jason bit the inside of his cheek not to scream. The dog didn’t deserve this and neither did Tim. He wanted to hunt those murderers down, wanted to really hurt them, but that wouldn’t do any good.

Sniffing, Tim pulled back, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m good,” he said. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Jason shook his head, taking Tim’s face in his hands and leaning in for a kiss. “But you’re going to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> I needed this dearly. Like, you have no idea how great it feels to write and finish something again for once :')  
> Tell me what you think? Did you like it? 
> 
> You can even hang out on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) with me?


End file.
